


Maine Returns

by luigifan11



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Because I need happy endings dammit, Fluff, I'll get better at this tagging thing, M/M, Maybe a tiny bit of sadness, Mild Language, a secret santa gift, but this is mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21957982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luigifan11/pseuds/luigifan11
Summary: Maine wasn't expecting to wake up in a hospital bed. Neither was he prepared for all the news to hit him at once.
Relationships: The Meta | Agent Maine/Agent Washington, others if you squint
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	Maine Returns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This is a Secret Santa gift for sprokit for redvsbluesecretsanta over on tumblr. They wanted MaineWash and the gang meeting the Freelancers, so I ran with it. Enjoy!

Maine woke with a start, panicking. He had to get out of the water fast or he was going to drown. He wouldn’t last long with both his heavy armor and the freezing water. It took him a second to register he wasn’t in water. He wasn’t even on Sidewinder anymore. He was in a medical ward, the multiple machines connected to him beeping and giving off noise in the otherwise quiet room. A part of him wanted to say he dreamed everything up, that his time as The Meta was Sigma going through a scenario in his head to plan out how to counteract it, but he knew that wasn’t true. He… He was The Meta. He killed his teammates… He expected Sigma (or more accurately, the imprint Sigma left in case something happened to them) to regain control at any second, wrest his body from him and continue on their way, killing everyone in pursuit of metastability. He was surprised when his head felt… emptier than usual. No whispers, no headaches, just… him. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He heard the door open, and all the relief he felt metaphorically divebombed into fear. Maine thought he was in Hell, because standing right there was Agent North Dakota, about as casually as he normally entered a room back on the Mother of Invention. North’s gaze snapped to him as the machines monitoring Maine all went crazy, beeping erratically.“Guys, Maine’s awake, and I think he’s freaking out. What should I do?” North spoke into his comms, presumably to the doctor that put him here.

 _ **"** **Why don’t I try, Mitch?”**_ ‘No… It couldn’t be…’ Maine’s terror was renewed as Theta appeared in their hologram. He backed up from the AI as much as he could on the hospital bed. This had to be Hell. He was being tormented for his time as The Meta. _**“Mat- Maine, you’re in distress. I don’t know what’s caused it. Can you show us what triggered it?”**_ Maine pointed at both of them, like that would help. He was in Hell. That was the only explanation. He died on Sidewinder and this was Hell using his victims to torture him. _**“Okay. We’re going to leave. We’ll get someone else to explain to you. Mitch, let’s go.”**_ North nodded and left through the same door.

With them gone, Maine was able to focus on his breathing and calm down, the machines’ beeping slowing back into a normal rhythm. What… was that? Weren’t they going to torture him? Seek revenge? A little while later, another familiar figure appeared, someone he didn’t touch as The Meta. 479er entered the room and sat in a chair next to Maine. “Hey, big guy. Now, I’m sure you have a lot of questions about what’s going on. First, can you tell me your name?” Maine started to growl, but quickly remembered only Wash could understand that. ‘A-S-L?’ He signed, the movements working his stiff hands. “Yes, I know ASL. Use what’s comfortable to you.”

‘M-A-T-T-H-E-W-2-4-7’

“You’re a SPARTAN? South owes me twenty bucks. Matthew, we’re on a planet called Chorus, it’s at the edge of UNSC space. This is their capital, New Armonia. They won’t look for us here.”

‘Here. How?’

“I brought your corpse and armor here. Delivered them to Malcolm Hargrove, the Chairman of the Project. They wanted your armor; I buried your corpse along with everyone else’s. Someone had to honor you for who you were, not what the Project made you.”

Well, that was nice of her. He didn’t think anyone would honor him. He wouldn’t blame her; he wouldn’t honor him either. That begged the question though.

‘Alive. How?’

“A civil war Hargrove started ended with the Reds and Blues bringing him to justice.” He flinched a bit at the mention of them. They were still alive and getting into trouble, it seemed. “A war-torn Chorus activated some alien temples. One of those towers was supposed to help with growing wildlife and harvesting crops. Then corpses started coming back to life. No one understood how it worked, but everyone came back, even the enemy. Had a last battle. Chorus won, injured but no corpses this time, on both sides. Guess no one wanted to squander anyone’s second chance. UNSC came and arrested the survivors. They left, and Chorus has been rebuilding ever since. You were in a coma the whole time. Can only assume you had trouble coming back because of the damage Sigma did.”

Speaking of the AI, he had to know how Theta came back. And if anyone else did. ‘A-I back. How?k E-M-P.’ “Guess the same alien tech brought them back. Once we knew what was going on, we removed the implants from you. Only problem was they were all so tangled up, we didn’t know how to separate them. Thankfully, we had a little help from an alien AI named Santa. Long story.”

**_"_ Thank you, Ms. Scarlet. I appreciate the compliment.”**

_**“Hey! I helped, too! I did more than the glorified Goosebumps catalogue!”** _

Two holograms showed up, one a cobalt color, the other red and shaped like a Sangheili. He only vaguely recognized the voice of the cobalt one before his fear began again. The Alpha, the one Sigma wanted so badly.

_**“It would appear that Agent Maine fears what he might do in the presence of an AI.”** _

**_“Oh, relax, you big baby. Sigma’s gone from you. Him_ and _his imprint. We made sure of that while we were removing them all from you. You’re your own guy now.”_** Maine felt the back of his neck. Sure enough, his implant site was empty.

‘Free?’

“Yeah. Welcome back, Maine.” If anyone asked, Maine was not crying. He was simply suffering with dry-eye from having them closed the whole time.

“Now, we should probably go see the others. Show them you’re alright.” Maine shook his head at that.

‘M-E-T-A. Killed them. Last person they want to see.’

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Everyone knows that Sigma was responsible for The Meta. All of them told us what he did. They _want_ to see you.” Maine was surprised they wanted to see him, especially after all he’d done as The Meta. But if they wanted to, who was he to deny their request. 479er helped him into a wheelchair and wheeled him down the hall.

When they reached their destination, everyone was there. York, North, South, Florida, Wyoming, CT, even Texas, in a new body, with the other AI with their respective partners, save Eta and Iota, they were assumedly plugged in somewhere as they were blue and yellow holograms in the corner. Everyone froze when they entered, Maine included. Was it too late to back down? To just leave and never come back? Maybe he could be a recluse on Chorus? Just get a bunch of chickens and live somewhere he didn’t have to bother anyone? 479er’s hand rested on his shoulder, grounding him. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down.

Once he calmed down, South was the first to speak. “Holy shit, Maine freaking out like that? Never would’ve thought I’d see the day.” North jabbed her with his elbow, “Right. Sorry.” Maine got 479er’s attention.

‘Translate. Apologize.’

“You don’t have to do that. They already-”

‘Want to. For me.’

She sighed. “Whatever floats your boat. All right, everyone, listen up! Maine here has something he wants to say to you all. I’m translating since I’m guessing no one else here knows ASL.”

He took another deep breath before he began. “First off, I am not asking for forgiveness. I know what I did was unforgivable. I killed you. Maybe not all of you directly, but my actions have led to others getting hurt, too. I couldn’t stop Sigma from getting to his goals, and for that, I am sorry. If you do not want me around, I fully understand and… raise chickens in isolation? I read that right, right? Wow, okay, that’s… Okay. Basically, he’s sorry for what he’s done as The Meta and hopes he can make up for his past actions.”

North was the first to move, getting up to walk over to Maine. When he reached Maine, he gave him a hug, patting his back and saying “We know it wasn’t you in there, big guy. We forgive you.” One by one, everyone joined in the hug, a reluctant Wyoming dragged in by Florida. And for the second time that day, Maine was _not_ crying. His eyes were still adjusting to being open instead of closed all the time.

“Now that we got the kiss and cry out of the way,” 479er spoke again, “we should get introductions out of the way.” Maine was confused at that. Introductions? They already knew each other. “Right, you weren’t here for that. Since the Project’s officially in the flaming dumpster now, we’re making a new life for us here. We’re using our real names for paperwork. Better than a bunch of people having Agent as a first name. I’m Scarlet Finch Caboose.”

North went next. “I’m Mitchell Aberson, and my sister is Casey.” York raised a hand. “Troy Kirk. And no, not like Star Trek.” CT went after York. “Hope Milford, better name than Connie, in my opinion.” Florida went last. “I’m Butch Flowers, and the mustache with lip over there is Reginald Powell.” 479er (Scarlet? …No, he might stick with their Project names. Simpler.) looked back over to Maine, handing him a clipboard. “What do you want to put for yourself?” Maine thought about it for a second. A new name. A new start. A new _life!_ He wanted to do good by it. Do good by _him…_ He wrote down a name on the paper: ‘Matthew David’.

* * *

It only took Maine less than a month to complete his physical therapy and start walking again. He chalked it up to the SPARTAN modifications, making it so the soldiers spent less time recovering and more time fighting. During that time, all the other Freelancers took to learning ASL to communicate with Maine in that time. He had spending more time with the AI to get used to them, getting over his fear. He didn’t think he could stand being implanted with them again, probably never again, but now he could talk to them without wanting to jump out of his skin and hightail it out of the room. He enjoyed talking to Theta, like a little brother he never had, discussing philosophy with Delta, Eta and Iota singing perfectly harmonized duets, humoring Gamma and Omega’s little schemes (he liked to be called O’Malley now for some reason, and acted more like a Saturday morning cartoon than an actual threat like back then), and listening to Alpha (or Church, as he still wanted to be called, despite knowing the truth) bitch about anything and everything, not really meaning anything in what he’s saying. Texas decided to stick around and keep an eye on Sigma, who was still working on metastability somewhere since collecting all those fragments didn’t work, but usually stuck to herself.

The one that was the most surreal to be around was Santa. Hearing about what he was originally created to do, gauging people to find a true warrior, made him wonder what would’ve happened if he had gone through that. _**“You know I can tell what your greatest fear is. I do not need to be implanted in you to scan you.”**_ Santa began this conversation one day while Maine was working out. _**“It used to be of you regressing to your time as The Meta, but it has changed in the passing days. Now you fear squandering this second chance given to you, disappointing everyone, especially Agent Washington.”**_ He paused in his rep at that. _**“I do not think you need to fear that. He would be proud of you and how far you’ve come.”**_ Wishful thinking. It wasn’t like David was here, or probably even want to see him after Sidewinder. _**“I know this to be true, because I have met him before. He was a part of the group that originally found me.”**_

That stopped Maine in his tracks. He set down the dumbbell so he could sign.

‘D-A-V-I-D? Here?’

 _ **“Yes, he was here and helped with the Hargrove Incident. Afterwards, he, Agent Carolina, and the rest of the group known as the Reds and Blues went to one of Chorus’ moons, Iris, for retirement. I can have you and the rest of the Freelancers be a part of the next supply drop in a week. If Ms. Scarlet were to pilot, I am sure President Kimball would agree with your request.”**_ Maine nodded.

‘Thank you.’

 _ **“It is my pleasure, Agent Maine. Or, would you rather you prefer I call you something else?”**_ Maine thought for a second before signing.

'Call me M-A-T-T-H-E-W.’

* * *

The day came that all the Freelancers were going to Iris. Everyone loaded the Pelican and strapped everything down so it’d stay still. 479er sat in the pilot’s seat, while everyone else got in the passenger seats and buckled in. 479er came on over the radio. “Passengers, this is your pilot speaking. We will be leaving in 30 minutes. It’s about five hours to Iris, so if you gotta piss, do it now. We aren’t stopping for anything.”

Maine fidgeted in his seat, his restlessness being fairly obvious. “Ya nervous about seein’ your boyfriend again, Maine?” South shouted from across the ship. Maine flinched at being called out so easily. North patted Maine’s shoulder, a sympathetic look visible through the visor. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I think Wash will be happy to see you.” Maine didn’t know about that.

‘S-I-D-E-W-I-N-D-E-R. Believed I betrayed him. Maybe I did. Hates me.’

“Is Wash the type to hold grudges like that?” Maine chuckled. Boy could David hold a grudge.

‘Once ate his last cookie. Wouldn’t speak to me for five days.’

“Oh, wow. That’s a grudge. Besides, that was Sigma, both times. That was The Meta, not you, Maine. If you explain it, I’m sure he’ll understand. And if he refuses to listen to reason, then that’s on him.”

Maine nodded, but he still had his doubts. The whole reason he decided to come was because Santa was sure David would be understanding… but what if he couldn’t. What if he _wouldn’t?_ Those thoughts plagued him for the entire five-hour flight. When the Pelican touched down, 479er came on over the radio. “Welcome to Iris, everyone. Population: eleven people and whatever wildlife is here, if any survived.”

Everyone helped get the cargo out of the Pelican. They were almost done when one of the simtroopers showed up, the regulation blue one. The name was on the tip of Maine’s tongue. He heard it before. “Hello! You are not the usual people that give us stuff.” 479er stepped off the Pelican. “Mikey! It’s good to see you again!” The simtrooper let out a gasp and ran towards her, scooping her up in a hug. “Scarlet! Oh my god, you’re here! It’s great to see you!” She was unphased by this turn of events, giving just as big a hug back. “It’s great to see you, too. Sorry it took so long to come visit. You kept changing your address and my… friends came back to life suddenly.” The simtrooper set 479er down. “I understand. Friends coming back to life can be a lot to process. I’ve had it happen three times. I am an expert.” That caused Maine to do a double take. An expert at resurrection? Then he remembered that the Al- Church was sent to Blood Gulch and Epsilon was with them for the Hargrove Incident. That must’ve been what they were talking about. “Allow me to introduce you. Guys, this is Michael Javier Caboose. He’s my little brother. Mikey, these are my friends. I flew them all around back in the day. He’s called Maine.” Maine was surprised when he was swept into a crushing hug. He was able to withstand it, but was surprised by it all the same. 479er must be pretty strong to be able to take this without flinching. “Hello, Maine Coon! I am Caboose, and we are friends now!” Maine was about to correct him, but then North and South brought some more cargo down. “Come on, Maine. We still have more to- aw shit, it’s you.”

Caboose turned to look at South. “Rude Lady! You came back!” Caboose noticed North. “And you cloned yourself! Neat!” North chuckled. “Not a clone, buddy. I’m Mitchell, but my friends call me North. The ‘Rude Lady’ is Casey, my twin sister. We call her South.” Caboose nodded along to North’s explanation. “East and West. Got it.” “That’s not,” South began, but paused, “…You know what? I can live with that.”

As the rest of the Freelancers loaded stuff, they introduced themselves to Caboose and got appointed their nicknames. “Oh!” Caboose suddenly interjected, “I have to show you to my friends! They will love you guys!” He takes Maine’s hands in his. “Won’t you come, Maine Coon?” Maine let out a grunt, unsure what to do. The kid had a vice grip, and trying to yank his hands away was rude, but he needed to sign to actually be understood by anyone other than David. “Mikey, honey,” 479er says to Caboose, “Maine needs his hands to sign.” Caboose goes wide eyed and let’s go of Maine’s hands. “Oh. ‘Sorry.’” Now it was Maine’s turn to be surprised.

‘You sign?’

‘Yes. I learned how because one of my sisters is deaf.’ Ah, that explained it.

‘…Yes. But, could you go first? I’m… a bit scared to see him again.’

Caboose nodded. ‘It can be scary to see people after a long time. I will be there with you. That is what friends do.’ Caboose took one of his hands and led Maine, the rest of the Freelancers following afterward, carrying the supplies.

When they finally reached a building, Caboose called out “Hey, guys! I found some new friends! And my sister! Come say hi!” A maroon simtrooper came out, not in armor. “Caboose, don’t shout this early in the- OH FUCK!” He promptly ran back inside, probably to wake everyone and put on armor. Yep, that’s about the response he was expecting. The maroon soldier… came back? Still not in armor? “Okay, ha ha, you got me, Tucker. You can take off the armor now.”

“Silly Simon,” Caboose retorted, “this is not stupid Tucker. This is Maine Coon. He is my new friend. Maine Coon, say hi!” Maine took off his helmet and let out a growl while signing ‘Hello.’, a sign of good faith.

“OH FUCK!” This time, the maroon soldier made a lot more noise as he ran back inside, most likely scrambling together something. “Do not mind Simon. He has social anxiety. Mostly with girls. Are you a girl, Maine Coon?” Maine signed ‘No. Boy.’ while shaking his head. “Gotcha. Simon is just being silly then.” Then a familiar voice rang out from inside the base. “Simmons, I swear to God, if you’re involved in Tucker’s prank, I’m gonna-” Wash stopped in the doorway, wearing his adorable cat pajamas he’d gotten him for Christmas. Both of them were wide-eyed, just staring at the other. This was it, Maine thought. The moment where Wash pulls a gun on his face and tells him to get the hell out. Maybe just skip that part and put a bullet in his head. He felt his eyes water, tears threatening to fall. He almost didn’t catch Wash speaking softly, using his name sign, a mix of big and cat. “Matty?” Maine almost burst into tears then and there, using David’s name sign, a mix of cat and love.

‘David…’ At that, they both surged forward, hugging each other close and kissing. Maine ran his hands through Wash’s hair, while Wash felt the stubble on Maine’s head. Both of them explored the other, pulling apart to breathe and rest their foreheads against each other. “This is real. This isn’t a dream; this is really happening… right?” Maine nodded; his face already wet with tears. “Maine Coon! You’re best friends with Washingtub?! Best. Day. Ever!”

“They’re more than best friends, Mikey.” 479er was behind them, along with the rest of the Freelancers. “479er? North? South? York? Florida? Wyoming? _Connie?!_ What are you all doing here? _How_ are all of you here?” Wash realized that they were all witness to his tearful reunion with Maine and blushed a tiny bit. Maine smiled at that. Just as cute when flustered as he’d remembered. “Long story short,” South cut in, “Alien towers brought us back when Chorus was trying to harvest crops.” No one really knew how to explain it, so they left it at that. Everyone else came out to see what the commotion was and surprised at people they thought dead coming back. Some more tearful than others, specifically Carolina and York, even if there was less kissing and more emotionally-charged grappling, it was still pretty tearful. Donut was openly weeping. “Nothing like a good grappling to get you crying in the morning.”

It wasn’t until everyone was outside did the commotion really begin. As soon as Wash saw the regulation red simtrooper, he hugged Maine’s arm and shouted “Dibs!” “Dagnabbit, Wash! Red Team needs some more crazy strong badasses. We only have Locus and you’ve got yourself and Carolina!” Wash kissed Maine’s cheek and gripped tighter. “Sorry, Sarge. I’ve got boyfriend dibs. He’d be on Blue Team either way.” “B-Boyfriend?!” Sarge stuttered, taken aback by the revelation. “I… I’m sorry, I- I need to go… polish my shotgun.” Sarge went back inside, but everyone outside could hear his muffled wail. “Boohoo! Washington, your yellow stripe has broken my heart once again! Our love could never be!”

The maroon simtrooper stepped forward. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll be better and back to wanting to shoot Grif in a half hour or so.”

“Wash, you should’ve told us sooner. I could’ve had a break from him for a while now.” The orange simtrooper, Maine assumed this one was named Grif, said. “Oh, like you were going to do anything besides napping.” The maroon one shot back. “Think about it, Simmons. I could’ve had more naps for a while now. I could’ve collectively napped for about a month! Plus interest!” “What interest? How does napping build interest?” Grif pulled Simmons close and whispered in his ear. Whatever he said made the redhead blush almost the same color as his shirt. “Oh. That’s how,” Simmons said lamely.

“Can we get back to the fact that Wash used to date The Meta? Because I think we kinda glossed over that.” The simtrooper in aqua said. Wait, was that aqua or turquoise? Teal? Whatever, it was some blue-green combination, that wasn’t important. “I think the fact that all these people came back to life is more important than who Wash was dating back in Project Freelancer. Especially your old C.O.” Carolina pointed out. “Fuck, you’re right. Who’s in charge of Blue Team now that Flowers is back?”

“Does it matter? We can just be co-captains,” Wash stated, “plus, I am _not_ calling you ‘Daddy’, Florida, so don’t try it.” Florida chuckled. “Right-o, Wash. I’d be happy being co-parents with you.” “That’s not what… Fine, whatever. Not like the teams matter anymore anyways.”

After that, everyone went into groups to get to know each other better. There was someone new who’s color Maine didn’t recognize, someone in dark green with long hair and an x-shaped scar on his face speaking Spanish with Grif. Wash told him that was Locus, or Samuel Ortez. Kimball had him court-ordered to remain with the Reds and Blues for ‘rehabilitation’. Apparently, he tried to commit planet-wide genocide before having a change of heart and helping the Reds and Blues in the Hargrove Incident. Guess they had that in common. Maybe they could talk, ex-villain to ex-villain. All in all, he had to say this was a successful reunion. Speaking of reunions...

‘There’s something we forgot to mention. Along with all of us… The AI came back, too. All of them.’

“Wait,” Wash said, “ _All_ of them? Even-”

_**“Yeah, even me. Thanks for thrusting me into the limelight, asshole.”** _

Maine pulled out a small memory storage unit, modified with a holographic projector, from an armor compartment and Church projected out from it. _**“I’m back, assholes. Miss me?”**_ All the Reds and Blues turned towards Maine and Wash. “CHURCH!” Caboose shouted, diving for the hologram and landing on the ground. Everyone else ran towards them. “Church, you’re alive!” Tucker shouted. “Wait, does that mean the rest of the AI are alive, too?” Simmons questioned.

‘Yes… Even Sigma.’ Maine signed.

“Sigma? You mean the AI that made you batshit crazy and murder-y?” Everyone looked at Grif. “Grif, you know sign language?” Simmons asked. “Why wouldn’t I, Simmons? Talking without having to speak? That’s, like, a step towards telepathy, the ultimate form of lazy communication.” Donut whistled. “Who knew Grif would be good with fingering.”

Maine handed the device containing Church to Caboose.

‘Careful. Don’t drop him.’

“Don’t worry, Maine Coon. I will show Church our new home! He can meet Freckles!” Caboose ran back inside with Church in tow, the cobalt AI already exasperated. “So, if Sigma’s back, is he going to try and do shit as The Meta again?” Simmons questioned. Maine shook his head.

‘Searching for another way. Texas is monitoring him.’

Grif instantly recoiled, looking around frantically cupping his groin. “Fuck! Tex is back, too? Is she here? Do I have to run?” Maine chuckled at that. Texas seemed to have that effect on men.

‘Back on Chorus.’

Grif relaxed now that his balls weren’t in immediate danger. “Why don’t you guys go ask to meet everyone’s AI? York has Delta right now, so that’s a start.” Wash suggested. Everyone nodded at that, wanting to see their old companion.

When Maine and Wash were alone, Wash’s grip on Maine’s arm tightened. Maine looked to Wash and saw the worry on his face.

‘What’s wrong, David?’

Wash sighed, relaxing his grip. “Sorry, Matty. I just… I just keep hoping this isn’t a dream, that I’ll wake up and none of this would have happened.” Maine cupped Wash’s head in his hand, giving him a slow, gentle kiss.

‘If this is a dream, then don’t wake me up.’ He growled almost like a purr. Wash chuckled at that. “You were always so cheesy with lines like that, but that’s just another reason why I love you.” They kissed again, then went back to join the rest of the reunion, hand in hand. This time, nothing could’ve separated them.


End file.
